In the Shadow of a Reaper
by thebluninja
Summary: Moments away from deciding the fate of the galaxy, a strange hairy alien grabs Commander Shepard and takes her to a different station - Babylon 4. Rescued from there by the White Star, now Shepard and the Normandy find themselves in a new universe, where their people and their technology are unheard of, and a different threat looms over the galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is all Wanderer D's fault. It will be a while until the next chapter also, because I have to watch B5 again to be sure I'm really getting the characters down right. I can't rely on the wiki for that when the last time I watched the show was three years ago. But in the meantime, enjoy, and know that I do have plans for everyone left behind in the ME-verse … it'll just be quite a while until you see them._

* * *

Staring at the Catalyst, Andrea Shepard swayed on her feet as she considered its words to her. It was an impossible choice, and every second she took thinking about it, tens of millions of people were dying across the galaxy. Nodding weakly to herself, she took one step forward.

"Zathras thinks this game is rigged," a new voice said from behind her. "Zathras thinks it is time for you to be moving on now."

Computational cycles inside the Catalyst sparked up with concern. Shepard had stopped, staring in confusion over her shoulder. No organic lifeforms existed anywhere in this half of the station. None of its keepers or husk-forms were nearby. Given her injuries from Harbinger's near miss, there was a twenty-seven point four percent chance that she was hallucinating or suffering from some other manner of cognitive damage. Even if she had managed to convince the indoctrinated human downstairs to kill himself rather than continue to act for the Reapers.

Thus, it came as a complete surprise when Shepard went flying sideways as though shoved, and then vanished. All sensors recorded her disappearance identically, as though she had fallen through a doorway, only that doorway was apparently something that could conceal her utterly from every form of surveillance.

There was no sound. Optical sensors on every frequency of the entire electromagnetic spectrum came up empty. Even a quarian in a suit had to have oxygen exchanging, yet chemical analysis of the air showed nothing. But with the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Shepard, the Crucible solution was no longer valid.

A tiny vibration shimmied through the walkway leading to the upload link, courtesy of a construction bolt just slightly loose. It was enough. Wordlessly the Catalyst sent word to one of its Reaper children exterminating the organic ships outside. A scarlet beam ripped through the chamber, shattering nothing but windows and a few secondary supports. Atmosphere ripped out of the station. Whoever or whatever had been present, the explosive decompression had sent them spinning out into vacuum.

The Catalyst turned its attention back to the battle against the organic forces.

* * *

Sinclair, Sheridan, and Delenn smiled at each other. As two of them turned to leave Babylon 4 forever, the door to the Command and Control opened. "Damnit, Ivanova, I told you," Sinclair started to say. But the sight of the woman in the doorway stopped his tongue.

She was human, and looked a whole lot closer to death's door than he felt, even after the accelerated aging from the unstable time field. She wore body armor, charred and blackened, though the untorched shock of auburn hair made him sure she'd lost a helmet somewhere. "Uh-oh," Zathras said.

One hand raised a pistol, pointing it straight at the elderly alien. "You brought me here. Where is this? What happened to the Catalyst? What's happening to Earth?" she demanded.

"Zathras will have to give Zathras a serious talking-to about this," Zathras said.

"There's no time for this," Sheridan said, taking a step forward. The gun moved to track him, but he kept his empty hands up. "We've only got a few minutes to get off this station, or we're never leaving it at all."

She stared at him, brilliant blue eyes haunted and fighting back tears. "What about the Alliance? What about Earth?"

"Last time I checked, Earth was just fine," he said.

"Fine? What about the Reapers? What about the billions dead or harvested?"

The two human men exchanged a worried glance. "I don't know what a Reaper is," Sinclair said. "But there's never been anything on Earth that's killed a billion people, and there won't be if I have anything to say about it."

The gun halfway tracked to him before it started to tremble, and the scarred woman sagged against the doorway. "Never heard of them?" she whispered to herself. A laugh bubbled up, harsh and broken and hopeless. "I lost. After all of that, I lost." The gun tumbled to the floor a moment before she did, ash flakes spraying from her armor.

"Zathras does not have time to explain, so Zathras will sum up. Zathras hopes you know Earth card game of poker?" The alien's taloned fingers wrapped around the bar surrounding the pit as Delenn and Sheridan crossed the room to check on her. "She is the joker, the wild card." He paused, tapping his chin with one nail. "Of course, jokers usually come in pairs."

"Her pulse is weak. Are the doctors on board the White Star versed in human anatomy and medicine?" Sheridan asked. Getting his arms under the mystery woman, he barely staggered to his feet. "Damn, this armor is heavy!"

"They should be able to care for her until we can get back to Babylon 5," Delenn said. "Here, let me help."

Carrying the unconscious body between them, they rushed through the corridors of the station, back to the waiting Ranger ship. "Marcus, we need help!" Sheridan shouted through the access hole.

The bearded ranger appeared a moment later, staring up. "Where did you find her? I thought everyone was evacuated off the station!" Carefully gripping her by the arms, Sheridan and Delenn started lowering her down through the hole to him. "And what kind of armor is this?"

"We do not know. She appeared at the door as we were about to leave, spouting madness about billions of dead on Earth," Delenn told him. "If the Shadows are already attacking worlds, we must return to Minbar at once."

"But why would they attack Earth? They already control Clark, and who knows how many others in the government," Sheridan said. "It doesn't make any sense. And why would Zathras refer to her as a wild card?"

They dropped into the ship, carrying her quickly between the three of them to the medical ward. Laying her down on one of the tables, Marcus began examining her armor. "I think we might have to cut this off of her, Delenn. This looks fused. I don't know what happened to her, but she must be one hell of a survivor."

"Help the doctors care for her. We need to get moving and out of the time rift," Sheridan said, turning for the door. "But let me know if she wakes up. I've got a lot of questions for her."

"I don't doubt it," the ranger replied. As the door swished closed, he tested the tip of his knife against the charred, flaking armor bracer. "Amazing."

* * *

The Normandy flew through the relay tunnel, racing for Eden Prime. They had been one of the last ships in the task force to make the jump out following Hackett's order to retreat. The Crucible was in place, Shepard was on board, and if it worked they could regroup and repair there. If it didn't work, well, it didn't really matter where they went. It was only a matter of time.

"Jeff, I'm picking up Shepard's transponder," EDI said.

"Uh, EDI, we're in a relay FTL. And her transponder went offline before she reached the Citadel, right after we yanked Garrus and Javik out of the fire," Joker said, his hands yanking every microwatt of power from the engines.

"I am still receiving the signal. In approximately twenty-seven seconds, we will pass it. It is coming from somewhere just outside of the relay channel." One corner of the pilot display shifted, showing their course and a blinking dot. It didn't need to be labeled.

Garrus came running up the neck of the ship from the holomap. "Go to it," he ordered.

"Damnit, we don't know if you even can exit a relay mid-transit," Joker protested. But his hands were already shifting on the controls, adjusting thrusters and engine control. "Just for the records, this is a really fucking stupid idea!"

Two seconds later, the Normandy lurched sideways and pierced the wall of the relay transit. Right as the ship hit the halfway mark, a wave of green-tinged energy blasted past them, and the ship tumbled into freefall, engines dead.

"EDI? EDI, talk to me!" Joker said, already stabbing at the manual controls and ignoring the cracking sounds from his fingers.

Picking himself up off the floor, Garrus swore in turian and put one hand over his bandage to hold it in place. "Someone get down to engineering! We need power back now!" The lights and ventilation flickered back on before he could turn away from the window. "Good. Uh, Joker, I'm not an astronavigator, but where the hell are we?"

"How the hell should I know? Ow, that fucking hurts! Tell Chakwas I need some finger splints ASAP." The pilot continued to mutter to himself as he turned the ship around, orienting it towards the fading transponder signal. "Shepard's a thousand klicks thataway. EDI?"

"She is onboard a ship, currently travelling at sublight speeds. An unknown energy wave disrupted the relay channel as we were exiting it, but based upon star configurations, we are in an unexplored region of space approximately forty light-years from Earth," she said. "The ship does not match any known configuration of vessel in my records."

"Six months from Earth. Wonderful," Garrus growled. "Traynor, give me a picture of this ship on the holo."

Nodding, the specialist fiddled with her controls for a minute before the ship appeared. It resembled an asari ship in some ways, and a turian on others. But what he didn't see was any sign of mass acceleration cannons, nor Thanix cannons. "Joker, can you get us in front of them?"

"You bet your ass," the pilot said. With a lurch, the Normandy jumped to FTL, dropping out a second later and rolling over to face the other ship. It fired thrusters, slowing down as they faced each other, bow to bow, over a mere kilometer of distance. "We got their attention. Now what?"

"This is Garrus Vakarian of the Normandy. You have Commander Shepard on board. Return her at once, or I will disable your vessel," the turian growled.

* * *

"What the hell?" Sheridan said, as a ship leaped into view, appearing on sensors _backwards_ as it loomed before them. "Slow down before we hit them. Where did they come from?"

There was a startled silence on the bridge for a moment before Ivanova spoke. "Sensors report they just appeared out of nowhere, on the other side of the tachyon field. Then they somehow moved faster than light without using hyperspace. I've never seen this type of ship before."

"They are broadcasting an unknown signal on a microwave frequency, as well as some other kind of energy signal we've never seen before," Lennier added.

"Can we hail them? Find out who they are?" Sheridan asked.

"I've already sent a standard hailing request," Ivanova said. "Either they don't understand it, or they're ignoring us. But I have to guess it's the second one." She changed the view on the screen, zooming in on a battle scored but still readable Normandy along one side of the bow.

"Why would they ignore us? Try using other frequencies," Sheridan said.

"John, could this have something to do with the woman we rescued on Babylon 4?" Delenn asked.

He mused on that for a moment. "Maybe. I can't rule it out, anyway. Please check with the doctors, see if it's safe to wake her up. Maybe then we can find out what the hell is going on."

Right as Delenn set foot into the hallway, the gun slung turret-style beneath the Normandy's bow opened fire, a brilliant white-blue beam shooting below the White Star only meters away from the hull. "Heat readings are off the scale! Commander, we don't want to be hit by that weapon," Lennier said. "Even with Vorlon armor, three or four shots from that would cut the ship in half."

"Ivanova, I don't care if you have to resort to standing by a window and using a flashlight to signal morse code, we need to talk to them now!" Sheridan said. "Lennier, back us away, slowly. No weapons yet."

* * *

"That was a warning shot. If you do not respond and surrender Commander Shepard, the next one will not be so lenient!" Garrus snarled. "Damnit, Traynor, why aren't they responding?"

"I don't think our communication modes are compatible," she said. "EDI, back me up on this?"

"They are broadcasting on a different wavelength, using a different format than any communication used in Citadel or Terminus space. I am attempting to gain access to their computer systems, but I have never hacked a computer that operates on a base-twenty-seven processor before," EDI said.

Restraining the urge to punch the guard rail, Garrus forced himself to take several deep breaths. "Any other bright ideas?"

"If I thought they might understand English, I'd have already resorted to using the approach lights to flash morse code at them," Traynor muttered. "It's a pre-flight binary alphabet," she explained.

"Turians have one of those too." The hand not holding the uncomfortably damp bandage tightened on the railing. "Did you try asking Tali for ideas?"

"Yes, and, um," Traynor trailed off, staring at her terminal in shock. "EDI, have I gone crazy?"

"The opposite vessel appears to be transmitting in Earth-standard morse code," the AI responded. "If accurate, the message is, 'Normandy, cease fire. We come in peace. Please respond.'"

Garrus and Traynor stared at each other for a moment. "You have got to be shitting me," Westmoreland muttered from her post next to the war room doors.

"Responding back. 'Return Commander Shepard or we will disable your vessel.'" Traynor typed it into her console, letting EDI control the lights. "Alright, now we're getting somewhere. 'We have unidentified human female on board, being treated for injuries. Please accompany us to Babylon Five.' The number, not the word, which is then followed by a list of coordinates. Oh wait, 'Current location' with another list of coordinates."

"Joker? Where are they trying to get us to go?" Garrus asked.

"Well, assuming they use Earth-standard lightspeed measurements – which I'm going to go with since they're using Earth morse code – about three light-days away from here. And sensors are picking up ship traffic in that vicinity," the pilot said. "We can get there in two, three hours."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Garrus considered it. "Tell them we'll agree to that, but only if they'll send someone over in a shuttle to ensure we can match coordinates." _That way we have a hostage of theirs while they've got Shepard_, he thought. He could tell Traynor followed his line of thought, but she said nothing as she typed out the reply.

* * *

"They want a hostage," Ivanova spat. "It's like they don't trust us!"

Sheridan shook his head. "I'm not sure I can blame them. They're clearly human, but here they are, faced with a ship they don't seem to recognize, can't communicate with, who's seemingly holding one of their officers hostage."

"Fine. I'll go over, and I'll straighten this out," she said. "Tell them to expect me."

"Susan." She stopped, no more than one pace from her console. "Try to play nice. But make sure you're armed just in case." She sniffed in amusement at the advice and stalked off the bridge. "Lennier, what do you think?"

"I think we want to find out who they are and how they got here, but most importantly, how they have weaponry like that. By the same token, their ship appears to be comparatively unarmored."

They fell silent as both Delenn and Marcus returned to the bridge. "How is she?" Sheridan asked.

"She's asleep now. There's only so much our doctors can do for her, because she's got almost as many synthetic parts as she does natural ones," Marcus said. "She's been through heavy combat, and recently. Underneath her armor she's got over a dozen bullet wounds, partly healed, and that armor. Once we cut the seals we were able to peel most of it away. From the looks of it, someone dunked her in a plasma bath."

"Her ship gave us a warning shot hot enough to cook the hull from a dozen meters away, so it wouldn't surprise me. They've agreed to meet us at Babylon 5, so we can hopefully get Franklin to take a look at her with her full medical records along." Sheridan shook his head. "What I can't figure out, is where the hell does a human warship like that come from?"

"I don't know," Marcus said. A smile slowly spread across his face. "But if we don't know, then neither will the Shadows." Sheridan's smile grew to match it as Ivanova's shuttle raced across the gap between vessels.

* * *

The shuttle barely fit into the bay, between the stacks of supply crates and the other shuttle. It was boxy looking and crude, something Ivanova was quite familiar with before the White Star. Standing at the far end of the bay were two people in armored suits, guns attached to their hips but hands empty. _How reassuring_, she thought, shutting down the shuttle engines and listening to the whistle of air filling the bay.

When the indicators at last read green, she opened the door and stepped out. Crossing the cargo bay at her usual stalking pace, she stopped exactly three meters away. "Lieutenant Commander Susan Ivanova, Earthforce."

The larger man to her right reached up, removing his helmet and giving her a better look at his face. "Lieutenant James Vega, N7, Systems Alliance."

"Don't you mean Earth Alliance?" Ivanova asked.

"Nope." She waited, but he said nothing further, so she turned her attention to the woman standing next to him.

When her helmet came off, it proved that her helmet visor wasn't tinted after all. She really was blue-skinned, and that wasn't a strange hairdo. "Liara T'Soni, information broker."

"I haven't met your species before," Ivanova said. "Have you ever come to Babylon 5?"

"I've never even heard of it, and I know every major space station in the galaxy," Liara said. "Which implies a number of possibilities we can discuss later. The bridge is this way."

The elevator behind them would have fit perfectly in almost any office building on Earth if it only had abysmal music piped through a cheap speakers on the ceiling. A minute later, her escorts stepped out onto the bridge as Ivanova paused, staring at the other alien present on the bridge. "I would definitely remember meeting your species before," she said.

"Garrus Vakarian. It's kind of difficult to make sure we're following the same measurements in morse code. Is this the location of Babylon 5?" He waived a three-fingered hand at the holographic display behind him, and she slowly stepped up next to him. The display quality was amazing, even the now-closed temporal rift illustrated with a faint cloud of charged particles.

"That's Babylon 5. It's just under three light days. Earth days, that is." She reached out one hand, passing it through the light and making the image shimmer.

Garrus nodded. "Traynor, signal the White Star we are leaving for their station. But we expect to see Shepard when we get there, and I don't really care how good they say their doctors are. Joker, soon as they acknowledge, punch it. I want to see who gets there first."

"You got it." Five seconds later, the Normandy leapt into FTL. Only a moment behind them, the White Star opened a jump point and slipped into hyperspace.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: I've gotten halfway through season 1, so you can probably tell based on which characters I don't have in here._

* * *

Ivanova stood off to the side, examining the ship. Her original escorts had both gone back into the elevator once they were in transit, but the other soldier nearby was keeping a wary eye on her. Aside from the two aliens, the rest of the crew was human, all of them wearing the same uniform. She'd already catalogued the differences and similarities between them. Then she'd gone over the next week's duty rotation.

Which meant she'd been bored out of her mind for the last twenty minutes, and they wouldn't be docked for almost that long. "Mr. Vakarian, perhaps we could exchange some basic information before we dock," she said. His hand twitched towards his back and the bulky-looking gun attached to his armor.

"I suppose," he answered warily, turning towards her as he continued to track their progress on his hologram map. "What did you have in mind?"

"We could start with the alien races aboard. Counting humans, there are five major races that make up the Council, plus another dozen in the League of Non-Aligned Worlds." She took two steps before throttling her urge to pace up and down. It wasn't helping the techs who were already paying more attention to her than her monitors.

"That's certainly a lot. My race are called turians. We're one of only two dextro species known to the Citadel," he said.

Ivanova frowned. "Dextro? I'm not sure I follow."

"Chirality. Humans are levo, turians are dextro. Our DNA and amino acids bond opposite of how yours do." His mandibles flexed in a way that left Ivanova feeling slightly queasy. "You mean there's no dextro species on your station?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Not among the Council, although I can't speak for the Vorlons. I would have to ask Doctor Franklin."

"Right. Well, turians have been players on the galactic stage for about fifteen Earth centuries." She blanched. "Heh. I have a feeling our histories are going to be very different," Garrus said.

"Still, the fact that you've been in space since the ninth century is impressive," she said.

He stopped, pulling up his hologram wrist computer. "By the earth calendar, it's currently the year 2186."

"On my calendar, it's 2260."

They both fell silent. "We're going to have a lot of stuff to pick up," Garrus muttered.

Before Ivanova could think of a suitable reply, the elevator opened. Vega, and an older woman stepped out. "Garrus Vakarian," she started.

_There is a woman who knows how to chide like an expert,_ Ivanova thought.

"I only just found out that we're en route to an alien space station, with alien species we have probably never met before, where Commander Shepard is being taken for treatment. Is that correct?" Stepping up next to him, she glared upwards, arms crossed on her chest.

"I sent you a message with the details," he protested.

"My time over the last two hours has been spent setting Donnelly's broken leg, a result of our unannounced detour to wherever the hell we are." One finger jabbed at his armor. "As the medical officer here, I am quarantining this ship until I have a chance to run some tests and work out disease vectors."

His jaw and mandibles drooped. "But, Shepard –"

"But nothing! You already risked our entire crew by letting one of them on board!"

"Hold on a minute," Ivanova protested.

"And that's not mentioning that potential risk that we pose to them. From what little Vega has told me, these humans seem to think Earth is still Reaper free. At the very least they've been out of contact since the First Contact war!"

"Today's date is October Sixteenth, twenty-two sixty," Ivanova said loudly.

The doctor stopped and turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, what was that? Twenty-two … are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. I'm Russian, it's a requirement."

Traynor tapped at her console, replacing the image of Babylon 5 and the ship traffic around it with something resembling a strange squid. "By comparison, this is the Normandy, next to it." The ship they were on was not even the length of one tentacle. "You're saying, these things have never been to Earth."

She stepped up, staring at the glowing image. Something about it chilled her down to the bone. "No. Definitely not. If these had appeared anywhere in this quadrant of the galaxy, we would have heard about it."

"Doctor Chakwas, I realize this sounds a little far-fetched, but it would seem we've somehow slipped into some kind of alternate universe," Traynor said.

Liara emerged from the elevator halfway through the sentence. "She's right. Glyph checked ten common pulsars. Seven of them have slightly different frequencies. Wherever we are, it is unlikely we'll ever see the Citadel, or our homes, again."

Ivanova looked slowly around the bridge, seeing the despair etched on each face. Whatever had happened in their universe, it was bad. "If there is anything that we can do to help you, ask. Some of us know what it's like to be unable to go home again."

On her hand, her communicator chirruped. "Garibaldi to Ivanova, please respond."

"Ivanova here. Give us priority docking. Sheridan has their captain on the White Star, I'll be escorting their ship's doctor to medical."

She could picture the look on his face during that pregnant pause. "Challenge: Bugs."

"Response: Lola." _And next time, I get to pick the challenges._ "I'm fine, Garibaldi. Their ship doesn't have the right communication equipment."

"Fine. You're on bay 2. Fill me in when you get here. Garibaldi out." It didn't come with a sense of reassurance.

"Friend of yours?" Garrus asked.

Ivanova nodded. "Garibaldi is the station's chief of security. Given recent history around here, he's naturally concerned when a warship shows up and doesn't respond to communication."

"He sounds good," Vega said. "So, let's all get ready to go, huh?"

Nodding, Ivanova started to walk towards the elevator, only to have Vega and Chakwas walk the other direction, up the neck of the ship. Turning rapidly on one foot, she followed them up to the airlock behind the pilot station.

"Garrus, I will be accompanying them," the female-shaped robot said, echoed by a speaker next to the holomap.

"Are you sure about that, EDI?" he asked.

"My body can be more easily sterilized, and given my human shape I will stand out less than yourself or Liara. In addition, it will allow me to better connect with their communication systems." Chakwas and Vega exchanged a look before shrugging.

"You'll still stand out. We don't have humanoid robots, let alone intelligent ones," Ivanova said. "But why not. The more the merrier."

There was a faint shudder as the _Normandy_ set down on the landing bay. "I am not the robot. It is an extension. I am the AI of the _Normandy_," EDI explained.

"A ship that can think for itself. Marvelous," Ivanova grumbled.

They went through the decontamination cycle in the airlock, and waited while one of the dockworkers set up a mobile set of stairs to the airlock. By the time they reached the bottom, Garibaldi was waiting for them. "Susan, everything good?" He glanced at the two humans and one robot accompanying her. "This is it?"

"For the moment. Doctor Chakwas," she said, extending a hand for Garibaldi to shake. "I want to ensure that it's safe for the aliens on board, that they're not going to catch anything or spread anything. Last thing this station needs is an epidemic."

"Yeah, we've already had one of those. It didn't end well. Follow me, we'll head straight to medical." Without another word, Garibaldi turned away, and they fell in behind him.

Vega's eyes were scanning everywhere as they exited, keeping track of the new alien species. Most of them were humanoid, moreso than on the Citadel, unless you counted volus and elcor as humanoid. Most of them also seemed to be fairly normal – moving cargo, talking in small, mixed groups.

Two corridors later, they met up with a group made mostly of aliens with one human at their head – and Shepard carried on a stretcher. "I'm Captain Sheridan," he said, mouth quirking as Chakwas pushed past him to begin scanning with her omni-tool. "Welcome to Babylon 5. She appears to be stable, but she's still badly in need of rest and medical treatment."

"She's lost a fair bit of blood, and I'm going to have to replace almost a tenth of her cybernetics," Chakwas said. "But you're right, she is stable."

"Good. Garibaldi, Ivanova, make sure they get to medical without any more complications. I'll check in later, and hopefully we can figure out just what is going on around here," Sheridan said. At the next corridor, he went one way and they went another.

Twice along the way, Garibaldi gave out orders through his comp to station security, keeping their path clear. There was one fellow who reminded Vega of a batarian who didn't seem particularly happy to be shoved off, but at the moment it was less important than ensuring Shepard's safety. He didn't trust these pale aliens, even if they had worked to stabilize Shepard.

_For that matter, how do we know they didn't bring us to this universe?_ He shoved the thought out of his head as the next set of doors opened for them. "I'm Doctor Franklin. Captain Sheridan gave me some information. Bring her in here, into the iso-unit," he ordered the stretcher bearers.

"Franklin, I'm Doctor Chakwas. She needs blood, anything compatible with B negative, at least one unit but two would be better." They were already at work removing the blood-stained undersuit as they spewed medical jargon like thresher maw spit.

"EDI, I'm going to post outside the door, keep out everyone who doesn't belong here," he said. Intent on examining one of the medical consoles, she just nodded.

The passageway was surprisingly sparse, very few of the station residents on the move and most of them took one look at the armor and found a different route to their destination. By his guess, it was nearing half an hour before someone finally approached Vega. He was human, though his suit and his manner fairly screamed 'used aircar salesman.'

"Excuse me, I need to get in to medical," he said.

Vega just stared down at him, doing his best to imitate Shepard's get-the-fuck-out-of-my-face-Jilani look. "It's secured. Find another clinic, mister."

"Morden, it's Mister Morden." His smile oozed across his cheeks. "Surely there's something you want, so that I can get what I want?" He lifted one hand, showing a positively superficial cut across his palm.

"The only thing I want is for you to go away and find another doctor. This is too small to be the only medical clinic on the station. I don't care about what you have to sell me, I don't care if you're the head of the holy order of Vecna." Vega motioned back down the passageway. "Beat it, while you can still walk to the next clinic."

"Well, if that's the way you feel," Morden said. One hand started to reach inside his suit jacket. In the next two point five seconds, his larynx was crushed with a quick jab, he was spun around to face the wall, the hand inside his jacket was pinned to the wall above his head, and he found his lower rib cage to be grabbed by a very strong, very large hand.

"Right now, you can't talk," Vega said. "You can't scream or make much noise at all. If I squeeze this rib hard enough," he punctuated it with a quick squeeze, enough to make it crack, "it'll puncture your lung. By the time you can talk again, your lung will be half full of your own blood. I think that would be a painful way to die. Got it?"

Very slowly, Morden nodded his head. Vega didn't so much as let go as hurl him down the hallway, sliding him a good thirty feet on the metal floors. Rising up onto one elbow, he stared back at the burly marine, and snapped his fingers.

Blue light coruscated around Vega as something slammed into his shield from the side. A quick jab knocked back his opponent, momentarily rippling their stealth field. Enough time for him to pull his M-76 Revenant from his back and open fire. Whatever the thing was that attacked him screamed as a dozen rounds blew holes clear through its body, and divots in the floor and wall behind it. The stealth field failed as it collapsed, thrashing on the floor.

Garibaldi and Ivanova burst out of medical, pistols drawn, just in time to see Vega snap off another burst as Morden scrambled out of sight down another corridor. "You let him bring an assault rifle on board?" Garibaldi snapped, reaching out with his hand to shove the muzzle down. "He's gone, put that thing away before you cause a hull breach!"

"Look, my bullets didn't even penetrate the floor," Vega said, pointing at the cluster of dents. "The guy who ran off was controlling that thing."

Ivanova shook her head, stepping back inside. Two Minbari exited a moment later with her, helping to pick up the gruesome black corpse and carry it back inside medical. "Garibaldi to security, I need four bodies on medbay one. No one in unless it's got my direct approval." He stared at the puddle of fluids on the ground. "Come on. Inside."

They waited while Franklin dismissed all of the nurses and staff, leaving only the three Normandy crew and the three Babylon crew. "That thing is a Shadow," Garibaldi said. "Morden wasn't controlling it, he was serving it. They've been manipulating people behind the scenes, started a major war between two of the other major powers and they've got their hooks into the leaders on Earth."

Chakwas frowned. "Sounds like indoctrination to me. How do they do it?"

"They find out what you want, then make sure you get it in a way that leaves you vulnerable," Ivanova said. "We know Morden's one of their agents, we've been watching him closely. We're part of an alliance dedicated to fighting the Shadows."

"Not the same," Vega said. "You saw what a Reaper looks like. Our universe, they show up every fifty thousand years, take every space faring species, and using some kind of mind-altering field. People affected start helping them. At the end, they've taken every member of the species and used nanites to dissolve them, then use that goo to build more of themselves."

Franklin shook his head. "I'm sorry, other _universe_? That's preposterous."

"It's the truth," Chakwas said. "Or at least, the best explanation we have so far. We just fled Earth, where a mere two dozen of those was sufficient to take out half the population in a matter of months."

"We don't even know if the final push worked," Vega said. "Until Lola wakes up, we won't know, either."

"That still leaves the question of what we do with you," Ivanova said. "Your FTL alone is enough that Earth will try to order us to seize your vessel. Obviously, their goals are opposed to ours." She turned to Garibaldi. "I'm going to find Ambassador Kosh. If the Vorlon will cover for them, Earth won't do anything openly."

She strode out the doors. "So, you're from another universe," Franklin repeated.

"That is the theory with the most support at present. Our calendars are different, and several pulsars and quasars have differing frequencies than we would expect. In addition, the technological levels between your station and our ship are striking, as are the inhabitants themselves." EDI paused to glance over at Shepard. "It would seem that no matter the universe, heroes are still needed."

"You can say that again," Garibaldi muttered. "What's her status, doc?"

"Well," both Chakwas and Franklin said. After a moment, he ceded to her with a hand wave. "She's stable. Most of her injuries were superficial – first degree burns, numerous bullet wounds, and a great deal of fatigue. All the holes are patched up and she's gotten her blood levels back up. Right now she's sedated to keep her resting. I think we can stop the sedation in four hours or so, and let her wake up naturally."

"Right. I'll stay here and keep Shepard safe until she wakes up," Vega said, moving to sit down.

Chakwas grabbed him by the arm before he could sit down. "The hell you are. In the last forty-eight hours, you've spent at least thirty of them in active combat, and you've had less than eight hours of sleep. Shepard's going to be out for a while, so you're going back to the ship to sleep." He opened his mouth to protest, only for her to cut him off again. "EDI doesn't need to sleep, she can keep the Commander safe. Or I can relieve you of duty."

Both massive shoulders slumped. "You play dirty, doctor," he grumbled. "Fine."

"C'mon, I'll take you back," Garibaldi said. "I wouldn't say no to a tour, either."

"Not until I have chance to run some culture samples and compare ambient bacteria and viruses from this station against our ship," Chakwas said. "Until then, you'll just have to wait."

"I hate waiting," Garibaldi said.

Inside medbay, Franklin leaned against the wall and studied EDI for a moment. "Are you sentient?"

"That would naturally depend on your definition of the term. I am capable of passing every version of Turing test, and technically I violate the Citadel laws against the creation of artificial intelligence, but I do not believe the Reapers consider me any more sentient than your communicator." EDI pointed at it with a finger, and it beeped in response.

"But if you're fully intelligent, you're a person too. Doesn't it bother you the way they treated you?"

She said nothing for a minute, moving over to one of the monitors. "Allow me to give a little exposition. This is part of my video memories, during our last push through London. At this point, the Reapers had been in control of the city for over three months."

He stared in horror at the destruction. At least every other building was collapsed, so damaged he couldn't even tell what they used to be. Dead bodies – and worse, _pieces_ of bodies, lay everywhere in the rubble. The view bobbed as she walked down the street, a pistol in each hand. From the buildings around her came a veritable horde of half-cybernetic creatures. Some of them used to be human, some he couldn't tell. The soldiers around her opened fire along with her, humans and aliens alike standing shoulder to shoulder as they fought for their very survival. One by one, they failed, and fell, bodies left behind.

"Shut it off," he said. He turned his face to the wall, pressing his forehead against the cool metal and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Lieutenant Vega was on the surface twice as long as I. He was at Shepard's side almost to the end. Whatever I saw, he saw worse. Doctor Chakwas spent those two days covered in other beings' blood as she fought to get as many of them as possible back to the firing line."

"Enough!" Franklin cried. "You've been through hell, I can see that well enough."

One hand rested on his shoulder, surprisingly warm and comforting. "I believe the human expression is, I am willing to cut them a little slack. If Doctor Chakwas had not suggested my staying here, I would have."

He nodded, standing up straight and smiling as her hand fell away. "It's been a long day for me, too. I've got some data disks in there with medical texts, if you want something to read."

"Thank you, but I have already decoded your stations communications protocols. I am currently browsing seven different channels." EDI walked to the chair next to Shepard's bed, and after staring down at her for a moment, sat. "I will be fine, doctor."

"Was that a joke?"

A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Very nearly."

* * *

Zathras clung to the support beam. The sudden loss of air pressure had lifted him off the floor, and almost out into space, but he'd managed to grab on before being launched away. Of course, he still had to get to the control equipment, which was now nearly eighty feet below him.

He wanted to take a deep breath, or say something, but that was rather hard with no air. The lack of oxygen was already clawing painfully inside his chest, and he had to keep blinking to stop his eyes from drying out. Bracing himself, he let go and dropped. This was going to hurt when he landed.

A stray round from the combat outside slammed into the Citadel, causing the station to shudder and shift. Suddenly, Zathras wasn't on target for the walkway – he was beside the upload station.

Had there been air, the snap of his legs shattering would have echoed in the room as he bounced off the side of the equipment, plunging towards the brilliant white beam of light. He had just enough time to think, _Uh-oh_, before his wholly organic body plunged into the light.

Since the impact also dented a panel, the Catalyst had point six seven seconds to identify the otherwise undetectable intruder and begin organizing countermeasures. Then it stopped, and screamed in pain. Green light shot out from the Citadel, washing over the Reapers in space and their husk troops on the surface. As it passed, each one shuddered and writhed as their synthetic components were transformed into organic structures.

Some of the Reapers continued to struggle, the titanic forms of their original races bursting forth from the Leviathan shell and expiring in the vacuum of space. Others remained quiescent, aside from the occasional tremor. On the surface, the transformed husks touched their bodies and hunted for reflective surfaces, unable to believe their sudden change in destiny.

The green light washed over the galaxy, one sector at a time, relays shattering into pieces as the energy tore through the galaxy. Ships were thrown out at their destinations.

At Eden Prime, two more Reapers were transformed. Only remnants of the fleet were here, most of them having turned tail and fled the moment they appeared. On Rannoch, the green wave bathed the planet, transforming the geth as it passed, leaving a very confused new race standing beside their one-time creators.

In the ruins of London, Harbinger opened his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note - ok, so my section breaks somehow magically disappeared. Thanks to my reviewers for pointing that out._

* * *

A sharp inhalation turned EDI's head. Shepard lay awake, blinking rapidly and looking around, relaxing only minutely upon catching sight of the synthetic body beside her bed. "One moment, Commander," she said, rising and walking over to a dispenser unit and returning with a small bottle of water and a straw.

After a few swallows, Shepard sat up with a helping hand, looking suspiciously at the nurse who came over to check her vitals. "What's happened? How long was I out?"

"You have been unconscious for fourteen hours and nine minutes. You have been treated for your injuries sustained in the fight." EDI nodded to the nurse, who backed off. "We are on a human constructed station called Babylon 5. All available evidence confirms a hypothesis that we are not in our own universe."

Shepard blinked several times as she tried to digest that factoid. "Assuming that's correct, how did the Normandy get here?"

"We were following Admiral Hackett's orders to retreat and regroup. While in transit, I received a clear signal from your subdermal transponder, despite its destruction during the final push towards the beam. Joker attempted to pilot us out of the mass effect corridor, during which time we were struck by an energy wave of unknown configuration, emerging near an alien vessel."

"What kind of energy wave? Help me stand up."

EDI hesitated to speak, but she pulled back the blanket and steadied Shepard as she slowly wavered on her feet. "It was … green."

"Green," Shepard repeated doubtfully.

"Yes."

They stared at each other for several seconds. "Next someone's going to tell me it was magic beams of space magic," she grumbled.

"Magic is only technology that is insufficiently understood," EDI countered. "When it comes to Reaper technology, that still covers a great deal."

The door to the medical bay opened, and a man in uniform strode inside, coming straight over to them with a smile. "Glad to see you awake again. I'm Captain Sheridan," he said, holding out a hand.

"You were on the station," Shepard said, taking his hand and shaking it quickly. "But I thought you said it was being destroyed?"

"Ah, no, not quite. That was Babylon 4. This is Babylon 5. What happened was, well, a bit of a long story." He slid his hands into his pockets as he spoke, projecting an image of easiness and carefreeness that she almost believed, if not for the look in his eyes. "I think we should set aside a few hours to talk, my command staff and yours."

"I agree, but I think I need time to get a shower, and some new clothes," she said, looking down at the flimsy hospital gown.

EDI suddenly handed her a set of maintenance coveralls, the pair she usually wore when fiddling around with weapons with Garrus. It had been nearly a month since they had half a day free to just noodle around with weapon mods and talk, since they ended Han'Gerral's stupid little war and saved both quarians and geth.

Struck by a sudden thought, she turned to EDI, heedless of the back of her gown flapping open. "EDI, if we're in another universe, then what are Garrus and Tali going to eat?"

"Out of the twenty alien species known to frequent this station, only two of them are also dextro. Liara is currently negotiating food delivery using some of our refined iridium for barter."

Sheridan nodded. "Over comms, of course, until doctors Chakwas and Franklin can be reasonably sure that our various alien crew won't be a danger to each other. There's a bathroom over there you can change in," he said, gesturing towards the back of medlab. "I'll bring my main staff in two hours?"

"Sounds good to me," Shepard said after a moment. "We'll be ready for you."

"Good, good." He was about to say more when his communicator chirped. "Never fails. Sheridan, go," he said, striding back out of medlab.

Changed into new clothes, Shepard followed EDI out of the doors, stopping as four humans in uniform formed up around them. "Do we really need an escort?" she asked.

"While you were first admitted, Lieutenant Vega killed someone who attempted to force their way into medlab," EDI said, pointing at the array of bullet dimples in the metal floor and wall. A maintenance worker had some kind of brick-sized piece of humming equipment to level out the holes. "After that, Security Chief Garibaldi placed armed guards on medlab and on the Normandy's dock in case his friends decide to retaliate."

More was said, but Shepard heard none of it as she stared at a pair of unknown aliens, bargaining over silk cloth of some kind. "Wait, what was that?"

EDI glanced in that direction. "If you were referring to the aliens, the merchant is known as a Drazi and the buyer a Pak'ma'ra. If you meant what I said, station security is unhappy about his carrying weapons on board."

Passing by an argument between a spotted reptile-person, and a Napoleonic-looking human with outrageous hair, Shepard shook her head. "Can't imagine why," she said dryly.

Leaning heavily on the railing of the portable staircase, Shepard ignored the two security guards and ascended into her ship. "Hey, Commander," Joker called as they entered. "Some place they've got here."

"Beats the last time we saw Arcturus," Shepard responded. "How'd we come through?"

"We took a beating and kept on kicking their ass," he said with a grin. "We need to replace about forty percent of our armor plates, and Tali's trying to figure out how to manufacture new gravity plating for the subdeck. Also, Allers is on the warpath for information."

"Does she know she doesn't have a network to broadcast on anymore?"

He shrugged, turning back towards his panels. "Heck if I know. We're just lucky their fuel is compatible."

Her pace increased as she walked down the neck of the ship. Garrus was already stepping down from the galaxy map to meet her, but instead of the embrace and kiss he expected, she grabbed his hands and dragged him towards the elevator. "Shepard?" he asked as the doors opened.

Stepping inside, she reached up and gently tugged on his cowl. "I'm not wearing anything under these coveralls," she whispered into his ear. He stepped into the elevator and stabbed the top button before turning back to her.

At the door to her quarters, Shepard pulled her lips off his neck just long enough to issue orders. "EDI, give me a reminder half an hour before Sheridan arrives. Until then, stay out." The reply was lost between the door closing, the sounds of clothing being removed, and their moans.

* * *

The Normandy crew sat down one side of the table, Shepard at the head with Garrus holding her left hand, then Liara, Tali, Vega, and Traynor. Chakwas had pulled her chair out of the door, close enough she could continue to monitor Javik's condition while listening to the conversation. On Shepard's other side sat Franklin, then Garibaldi, Ivanova, Delenn, and Sheridan at the foot. Marcus had borrowed one of the stools from the med bay and was sitting next to Chakwas. And in the back, against the wall, the silent and creepy figure of Ambassador Kosh.

"Alright, this should be an interesting little conference," Shepard said. "EDI, you sure all the language translations you made are accurate?"

"It is currently unfeasible to have someone who can speak quarian, turian, asari, and minbari languages," EDI said. "It will help if Garrus and Liara can stick to using English."

"I do not think that will be a problem," Delenn said. "As ambassador, I already have some fluency. Automatic translation, no matter how advanced, is a poor substitute for learning a language and culture yourself."

"Yeah, I suppose." They sat in silence for a moment as Shepard stared off into space. "Yeah. Alright. So, since we're the guests to your universe, I suppose we'll start. The whole thing can be traced back to a race we call Leviathans. Somewhere between half a billion and a billion years ago, they learned how to telepathically control other races."

She laid out what little they knew of the original precursor race, and their creation of the Catalyst to "solve" rebelling synthetics, only to fall prey to it themselves. The Reaper solution of harvesting species, and the almost total destruction of the Inusannon and Protheans – the only cycles they could name.

Liara and Garrus took over, speaking of the discovery of the Citadel, the Rachni and Krogan Wars, and their own galactic society. Shepard took over the narrative again, talking of the First Contact War, and finally her appointment as Spectre to track down Saren Arterius. The destruction of Nazara and the willful ignorance of the Council, her death under a Collector beam and Cerberus' resurrection of her. Even the obliteration of the entire Bahak system garnered little more than a tightening of knuckles and grim, understanding smiles.

Then the Reapers arrived, destroying everything in their path. Cerberus turning against the rest of the galaxy, determined to wrest control from their own puppet masters. Forming an alliance of every race in space to combat the eldritch horrors. The Catalyst, and its impossible decision. "That's when I found you," she said, staring across at Sheridan and Delenn. "The other alien with you, Zathras, pulled me out of the Citadel and into your universe. He must have chosen one of the options, because something happened to help knock the Normandy here."

Garibaldi shook his head. "I believe you. The only thing I don't get is how easy it is for these Reapers. I mean, we've seen telepathic control before too, but they still had to do more than just show up."

"It requires more than that for the Reapers, as well," Liara said. "If they want drooling minions, that's not hard. But they prefer a more subtle touch, convincing the victim that they want to do the Reaper's will."

"In some ways, it's not unlike forcing someone to undergo a psychotic break, or inducing schizophrenia," Chakwas said. "The slower it's done, the more intact the rest of the person's faculties are. They can still think, and reason, but they're tainted by the instinctive desire to serve."

Sheridan nodded slowly, hands clasped in front of his face. "Well, now that we know what you've been through, I suppose it's time for our explanation." He glanced aside at Delenn, who took a moment to compose herself.

"Like your own tale, ours also begins hundreds of millions of years ago. Back when all of the First Races still walked among the galaxy. One by one, they departed, or faded away, and vanished from the galaxy, until only two were left – the Vorlons, and the Shadows." She talked of the great wars between the two sides, as the Shadows contested the Vorlon leadership over new races. How they spread chaos and destruction out of some desire to weed out the "weak and impure."

They spoke of the destruction of the first three Babylon station, sabotaged by the Shadows or their minions, and the fourth station sent back in time to serve as the central part of the last war and begin the process of bringing human and minbari closer together. Then into modern times, with the assassination of the Earth President, the beginning of the Narn-Centauri war as the Shadows dug their talons into the crumbling empire.

Then the beginning of the Rangers, the independence of Babylon 5 from Earth control and the preparations for war. "That, I'm afraid, is where things suddenly just got a lot more complicated," Sheridan said, looking at Vega. "Yesterday, while you were still being stitched up, he stopped one of the Shadows' favorite servants from entering. And when one of them attacked, to make sure of it, he blew them away."

Shepard glanced at Vega, who nodded, fists clenching on the table. "Alright. So, you didn't want the Shadows to know you knew about them. Now they know you've got a dead one to dissect. But they still don't know you're preparing, right?"

"We don't think so, no," Sheridan said. "But they're bound to step up their timetable, now that there's someone around who can pierce their stealth fields."

Vega shook his head. "I didn't see it, it hit me. Left a gash in my armor. If it wasn't for fighting Cerberus goons with tactical cloaks, it might have killed me."

"Tactical cloaks?" Ivanova asked.

Shrugging, Shepard tapped her new omni-tool, vanishing from sight, only a barely perceptible shimmer still remaining in her seat. "They bend light around you," she explained. "Sound still comes through, and you can spot someone if you know what to look for."

"Hot damn, I have got to get me one of those," Garibaldi said, slapping a hand on the table.

"Mine's currently implanted around where my spleen used to be," Shepard said.

"Never mind. I'm not sure what my spleen does, but I'm rather attached to it," he said.

"I think what we need now is a war council," Marcus spoke up for the first time. "Your personal armor, and weapons, seem superior to anything we have, and that cannon on your ship is frightening. By comparison, your ship scans like a paper bag."

"We need to replace half our armor plates, and we don't have enough iridium and platinum to do it," Tali complained. "Not to mention, you don't even have the technology we need to build the tech to make new plates."

"Well, there is one thing we can do," Garrus said. "Liara, could we use your armor?"

"Why mine and not Vega's?" she asked, rising from the table.

"One, it's closer, and two, it's lighter than his," the turian said, standing up as well. In two minutes, they had it assembled and free-standing next to the stairs to the forward battery, while Garrus unfolded his Viper. "Now, as an example, this is what happens when you fire."

Leveling the rifle, he stared down the scope for a moment and executed a perfect heart-shot. The shields flashed bright blue-white, and the tiny bullet chip dropped to the floor. "Shields will stop a number of rounds, depending on the firearm and shield strength, and will regenerate automatically after a few seconds. Your turn, Garibaldi."

Staring at the sniper rifle as it folded up, the security chief rose from his chair and drew his PPG. Taking a standard firing range stance, he sighted down his straight arm and pulled the trigger. The shields failed instantly with a tiny flash, and a bloom of carbon blossomed across the armor's abdomen. "You must not like me, Garibaldi," Liara teased.

"I was aiming for the head, your shield threw it off," he said. Garrus, Shepard, and Marcus were already examining the armor.

"Well, aside from removing the shields, it doesn't look like that shot actually did anything," Shepard said, her fingertips leaving clear lines through the charred dust. "Try a couple of shots, before the shields regen."

They backed off and waited a moment while he checked his aim, then Garibaldi opened fire. The tiny pistol had almost no recoil, and four shots blasted into the chest and shoulders, toppling the empty suit on the last hit.

"Well, that did something," Garrus said, the pointed tip of his talon just barely disappearing in the tiny pitting. "I wouldn't put money on your entire squad being able to take down Vega with gunfire, though."

"Would you be able to manufacture those for us, Commander?" Marcus asked. "They appear lightweight, and would give Rangers a significant advantage against the Shadows."

"No." Everyone turned around as Kosh spoke for the first time. "Their technology is like the apple. One use and it will control you." His head swiveled to stare down Shepard. "You need to return. The longer you stay here, the tighter our worlds tie themselves together."

"Wait a minute," Sheridan said. "Zathras works for the Vorlons, always has. Zathras brought her here, which means you wanted them here."

"I … was wrong," Kosh said. Ignoring everything else they said, he glided to the elevator and stepped inside.

"That's not a good sign," Ivanova said.

"You can say that again," Tali muttered.

* * *

"It's been two days, Admirals, and still no indication of what is going on," Daro'Xen said. "Obviously, this concerns me far more than it does you."

"Daro, you're being alarmist," Zaal'Koris said. "Yes, the geth have retreated to the northern continent. In case you hadn't noticed, that energy wave also disabled a number of our own electronics, when it _destroyed the relay_. It's a miracle we're not all dead right now."

Shala'Raan shook her head, skimming through report after report while they continued to bicker. Her faceplate, like those of her companions, was cracked open to allow the fresh open breeze blowing through their building to tickle her nostrils. According to her doctor, she should have closed it up half an hour ago, but the smell of the flowers was too tempting to shut out for now. But her faceplate kept the growing frown from being visible.

After her first two attempts to interrupt went unheeded, she drew her pistol and fired one shot out the door into the dirt. Daro and Zaal both leaped away from each other, scrambling for their own weapons before they realized there was no attack. "Are you two prepared to act in a reasonable manner, now?" she asked calmly, weapon still out. "Good.

"Daro's half right – this is a matter for concern, though not for the reasons she'd elaborate on. Even with two liveships left here, there's still almost nine million quarians on the surface or in orbit. We can just barely sustain ourselves, but we were depending on geth aid." She pulled up one particular graph. "Right now, we don't have the labor to maintain all our ships, and build on the surface."

Instantly, both Daro and Zaal started shouting again, leading Shala to raise her gun. This time, they noticed before she pulled the trigger. "Zaal, one minute, go," she said.

"As much as it pains me, if we can't rely on the geth at the moment, we need to mothball some of the ships. If we don't get back on schedule, we'll miss planting times. That will put us behind by a whole solar year." Zaal crossed his arms, glaring.

Daro snorted. "If we mothball our ships, we won't be able to protect ourselves against any Reaper incursion or, Ancestors forbid, a renewed geth offensive if they've changed their minds."

"And have either of you attempted to communicate with the geth to find out what is happening?" Shala glared between the two of them as they said nothing. "Of course not. Veetor!"

Her new assistant peered around the doorway nervously. Given how often their meetings devolved into shouting matches, she couldn't blame him, especially with the gunshot. He probably wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be shot. "Yes, Admiral?"

"Open a channel to the geth. We need to talk."

"I, ah, tried to. All I'm getting is dead air." He shrank back behind the door frame as Daro started gesturing with another round of I-told-you-so's.

"Fine. Veetor, get my shuttle." That shut up Daro'Xen quickly. "If the geth won't respond, then I am going to go get some answers from them."

"Good. Maybe if you put a couple bullets in them they'll stop ignoring us," Daro muttered.

"Shala, are you sure this is a good idea?" Zaal asked. "Even though I want peace, that doesn't mean I know what's going on with the geth."

They stared at each other for a moment before she nodded. "Veetor, get two marines, as well," she ordered. "We'll set off north in an hour." Reluctantly, she closed up her faceplate. Her throat was getting dry and scratchy, and she didn't know if it was just an allergy, or fear that their recent peace was about to end.


	4. Chapter 4

Susan Ivanova stood in the CnC, watching the monitors of traffic. The Narn heavy cruiser had recently taken up station just outside the station as part of the new mutual defense treaty, and as a consequence, Centauri shipping was already dropping rapidly. Sad, really, but almost expected.

"Commander, jump point forming," Lieutenant Corwin said. "It's a Vorlon ship."

"What?" Ivanova walked over briskly, leaning over his shoulder. "But I thought Ambassador Kosh was still on board."

Corwin tapped a few keys on his console. "His ship is still docked."

"Ivanova to Sheridan," she said. The door opened, Garibaldi stepping inside.

"Sheridan, go."

"Captain, we just had a Vorlon ship arrive through the jump gate." Ivanova watched Garibaldi's frown grow while she waited for a reply.

"I thought Kosh was still on board?"

"He is." Frowning even wider, Garibaldi turned around and walked back off the Command and Control deck.

"Right. Well, put him in the dock next to Kosh's ship then, and I'll let him know what's going on. Sheridan out."

Ivanova stared out the window at the tiny speck of the Vorlon vessel, growing slowly larger as it approached the station. "Babylon 5 to Vorlon vessel, please state the purpose for your visit."

She waited several second before glancing at Corwin, who just shrugged. "We are arriving with the new Vorlon ambassador," came the reply, exactly as Ivanova opened her mouth to ask again.

She could feel a rather familiar sense of dread, opening in her stomach like a pit. "Is Ambassador Kosh being recalled?"

This time the silence extended almost half a minute, the entire time spent fighting the urge to grind her teeth together. "Ambassador Kosh is dead."

"Lieutenant, you've got control," Ivanova yelled, already running out of the room. CnC was a hell of a long way from Green 23, and if someone had managed to kill Kosh in the day and a half since he was on the Normandy, well, someone's head was going to roll. Even if she had to do the beheading herself.

Cutting through part of the Zocalo, she almost ran into Vega. "Whoa, Commander," he said, carefully juggling a list and several bags. "Where's the fire?"

"Have you seen Ambassador Kosh since our meeting on the Normandy?" Grabbing one arm, she yanked him along with her fast-paced walk. He nearly dropped one of the bags again before Ivanova grabbed a Narn wearing a security armband and shoved the bags into his arms. "Bay two, go."

Shaking his hand free, he tucked the list inside a pocket and straightened out his shirt. "No, but Lola said something about trying to talk to him again. Why, what's happening?"

"I just had someone tell me that Kosh is dead. Which I find somewhat unlikely, but not impossible." She shoved through the crowd in front of the transit car. "Are you armed?"

Grinning, he flexed one arm. "If you try to make any kind of witty pick-up line, I will have to shoot you," Ivanova said. He just shrugged, grabbing onto the handrail as it started pulling away.

Five minutes later, they stopped at the airlock to the alien sector. "Knew I should have worn my armor to go shopping, but no, Lola said we had to look friendly," Vega muttered, picking up the face mask and slipping it over his head. PPG in hand, Ivanova opened the airlock door, letting them into the methane atmosphere.

It was cold enough to raise goosebumps, especially when he was wearing only a tank-top and a pair of sparring pants. But he kept silent, eyes scanning the halls and the few inhabitants as they walked quickly to the Vorlon's quarters. Sheridan was standing in front of the door as they turned the corner. "Captain?" Ivanova asked.

"I just got here, but he's not answering. And there's enough signs to worry me," he said, tapping a section of wall near the control panel. Just above his finger was a clear char mark from a PPG discharge. "Why's he here?"

"In case you need to restrain anyone," Vega said. "And I'm a black belt in kickboxing."

"Fine. Just don't get in our line of fire," Sheridan said. Ignoring Vega's snort, one hand inserted his override card, the other holding his PPG ready. With the door open, he and Ivanova swept inside, textbook perfect, Vega taking up the rear.

The room was immaculate, almost exactly as it had been the first time Sheridan saw it. _Hell, it's almost exactly the same as it was when B5 came online, I'd wager_. Like most of the ambassador quarters, it had a small bedroom and a private bathroom off to one side, and they were just as empty and pristine. "All clear," Ivanova said, stepping out of the bathroom. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Sheridan said. "But more importantly, who was firing shots in the hall?"

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the Zen Garden_

"Damnit, Ambassador, you are going to explain what the hell is going on," Shepard repeated for at least the fifth time. "At some point, you're going to have to answer me."

Unconcerned, the Vorlon continued his slow, sweeping pace forward. "Highly unlikely," he said.

"Damnit, you stuck-up alien jackass! You dragged me into this whole mess, into your war! You owe me an explanation of why I was forced to abandon my homeworld!" Shepard finally stepped into his path, one palm thumping against his encounter suit.

Kosh looked down, the narrow viewing aperture narrowing even further. "Do not touch me," he ordered.

Instead of letting go, she wrapped her hand around the cowl-like edge. "Then _tell_ me, ambassador!"

**"Do not _touch_ me,"** he ordered again. Force pressed against Shepard, firm and implacable. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her fingers. The metal edge of the suit started to buckle under her cybernetically-enhanced strength. **"Let go!"**

"Not until you start talking," she growled. Blood started to drip from one nostril as the pressure intensified. "I'm sure you'd love to kill me, rather than answer. Which is why I brought back-up."

A tiny red dot sprang up on the side of Kosh's head, and he turned, following it to its source. An armored figure in blue, helmet sealed, staring down the scope of a sniper rifle. Their gaze met through the scope, and the three-fingered hand tightened minutely on the trigger, not yet firing.

The pressure on Shepard vanished, suddenly enough to make her stagger. "Well?" she asked, letting go of his suit to wipe at the blood with her fingers.

Kosh turned towards the rock garden, head bowed. "Your technology has been seen once before," he said. "By those who taught the Shadows."

"Say nothing more." Both Shepard and Kosh turned, staring at the new Vorlon voice. This encounter suit was darker, sleeker, and immediately made Shepard wish she'd brought her Paladin pistol.

"Shepard, I'm targeting the new Vorlon," Garrus' voice whispered in her ear. "I don't like the look of him."

"Ambassador Kosh," Garibaldi said from behind the new Vorlon, "your fellow Vorlon. He hasn't introduced himself."

"I am Ambassador Ulkesh," the new one said. "You are dead."

Kosh looked down at himself before staring back at Ulkesh. "No."[1] [2] [3]

"We must talk. Alone," Ulkesh said, glaring at Shepard. Almost running, Sheridan, Ivanova, and Vega burst into the Zen garden, staring in confusion at the pair of Vorlons.

"You know what? Fine," Shepard said. "But this conversation isn't over, understand me?" One finger pointed into Kosh's face as she glared at him, waiting for him to nod before walking away.

Joining them, Garibaldi trailed behind the group of humans as they left the Zen garden. "Anyone want to fill me in on what the hell is going on?" he asked.

"I'd like to know that myself," Sheridan said. "Since when is Kosh supposed to be dead?"

Ivanova shook her head. "That's what the new Vorlon said when he hailed us. But nothing's happened to Kosh, even after you convinced the Vorlon to take an active part in the war."

Shepard snorted. "Why doesn't that surprise me. The Vorlon sound a lot like the typical asari from my universe. Overinflated sense of superiority, fluffed up belief in their own power, but still utterly useless when any actual work needs to be done."

"Not sure I can completely argue with you," Sheridan said. "Look, Shepard, we're having a war council meeting in two hours. Michael thinks he found a way to fight the Shadows. Given your ship's weaponry, I'd like you to take part."

She looked at the three of them, before finally nodding. "Sure, sure. Just remember, our armor's still vulnerable. The Normandy's designed for stealth, hit and run."

"Don't worry. I had you in mind as an ace in the hole anyway," Sheridan said. "Two hours, Ivanova will make sure you know where the meeting room is."

"What meeting?" Garrus said, coming around the corner, armor still on.

"Damnit, Shepard, I thought I told you, no weapons or armor on board the station," Garibaldi complained.

"You told me. I ignored it on this occasion." She glanced back at the closed door to the garden. "If I hadn't, Kosh might have decided to fertilize the garden with my body."

"It's a rock garden. Nothing grows in it," Ivanova complained.

"I don't think that would have stopped him," Garrus said. "A high-powered round to the head will stop almost anything."

"Almost anything?" Garibaldi asked.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Vega said.

"We'll be there," Shepard promised. With a nod, she started off back towards the docking bays, letting Vega and Garrus fall in with her, as the B5 command staff headed the other direction. "So?"

"I'm not sure if I like the sound of what Kosh said," Garrus replied. "Not that one sentence is much of an answer, but it sounded like he said the Shadows were trained by the Leviathans, before they left this universe for ours."

"I sure as hell hope not," Shepard said. "We have enough trouble here already. It's more likely some form of convergent technological discovery. That's happened often enough in pre-space history."

"Maybe. But I was thinking, if the Leviathans did jump universes once, it means we could go home again." As his head dipped, she reached over and squeezed his hand, ignoring the hard edges of the armor for the moment.

"Hey. We'll get home eventually," she promised.

"I sure hope you're right, Lola," Vega muttered. "Because nice as this place is, there's a darkness in these halls."

* * *

Going the other direction, Sheridan was still frowning. "Michael, Kosh might not be dead, but someone fired off a PPG outside his quarters, no more than a week ago."

"That's weird. Station sensors should have picked up the weapons fire," he said. "I'll get some lab techs down there, take samples and see if we can figure out what happened."

"Good. Something tells me that's going to be very important going forward from here," he said. "Let me know as soon as you find out."

"Will do. You going to find Lyta now?"

Sheridan sighed and leaned against the wall as they stopped in front of an elevator. "Yes. Without her agreement, your plan goes nowhere. I'm sure Delenn will get some Minbari telepaths to help too, but it's really going to boil down to how many of the races in the League will step up and do their part."

"Good luck, Captain. Sounds like you'll need it." Clapping him on the shoulder, Garibaldi walked off as the elevator slid open.

"Is everyone here trying to take over my job as a pessimist?" Ivanova asked.

"Well, you just made it so popular we can't help following the trend," Sheridan teased her. "Blue two."

* * *

_Meanwhile, Medlab 1_

Lyta Alexander burst in the door, looking around wildly before grabbing one of the doctors. "Where's Doctor Franklin?"

"You just missed him," the doctor said. "He's on a personal leave of absence, and only came in on Sheridan's personal request to work on a patient. Is there something we can do to help you?"

"I came back here as soon as I heard the news." Glancing around, Lyta pulled the doctor off to one side, lowering her voice. "The Vorlons are convinced that Kosh is dead, and until I set foot on Babylon 5 again, so was I. What's happened?"

"To Ambassador Kosh? Nothing I know of," she replied. "I haven't personally seen the Vorlon lately, but I know our most recent patient was trying to track him down."

Before Lyta could ask more questions, the door opened, Garibaldi stepping in. "Miss Alexander, the captain asked me to remind you of the meeting. Did you get a chance to review my information?"

Letting her hand fall away from the doctor's arm, she nodded and started for the door. "I looked at it. No offense, but it seems like an awfully small chance."

"I admit it's guesswork, but I'm pretty good at guesswork," he said. "I know you were absent, so you probably haven't heard about our newest visitors."

"All I heard is that some new patient was looking for Kosh, and the Vorlons think he's dead." Lyta stepped into the elevator, waiting until it started moving to continue. "Michael, what the hell is going on?"

"Sometime in the last few days, someone with a shielded PPG took a shot outside Kosh's quarters. Day before yesterday, Babylon 4 reappeared, and when we finished sending it off to fix the last war against the Shadows, a human ship from another universe apparently popped in for a visit." He hit the stop button, halting the elevator and ignoring the computer. "Kosh, or more accurately, Zathras, is somehow responsible for it, and not happy about it."

"I don't understand what the hell is going on." Lyta leaned her forehead against the side of the elevator for a moment. "I'm going to see Kosh right now, before the meeting, and try to get some answers."

Garibaldi's eyebrows shot up as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Good luck with that. The 'new' Ambassador, Ulkesh, is with him. They might not appreciate the interruption."

Shaking her head, she hit the button to resume their transit. "Maybe not, but that's my job."

"Better you than me," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

_Two hours later, war council meeting room_

Shepard sat down, Tali sitting next to her. Most of those around the table were human or Minbari, but there were a number of single representatives from other races. "Commander, thank you for joining us. Everyone else, this is Commander Shepard and her chief engineer, Tali'Zorah." Sheridan looked around. "I think we're ready to begin."

He laid out the plan simply, Lyta nodding as the prospect of telepathic assaults was raised. "So, I'd like multiple ships waiting as back-up just in case the _White Star_'s firepower is insufficient to the task."

Tali glanced at Shepard. "How far away are we talking about going?"

"There's been reports of Shadow vessels sighted about ten light years from here," Ivanova said. "But it might take a while to find one isolated enough to strike."

"That might be a problem," Shepard said. "Our drive core is nearly depleted. We could recharge it ourselves, if we had a supply of eezo, but it's not something anyone seems to trade in. Going that far would take us days."

"I heard that your ship uses a rather, ah, experimental FTL method," G'Kar spoke up. "But is there any reason why you could not follow everyone else through hyperspace? It would be rather simple to outfit you with a hyperspace transponder."

"I haven't seen the technical specs yet," Tali said. "But if nothing else we could run it manually."

"What about everyone else?" Sheridan said.

"I will talk to my captain," G'Kar said.

"We will have additional telepaths on board another Minbari cruiser," Delenn said.

"Good. Let's get going then. We'll leave as soon as you can get a transponder installed." Sheridan nodded to Shepard, who just sighed and nodded back.

"Problem, Shepard?" Tali asked.

"You heard Kosh at our mutual debriefing. He brought us here, no matter how much he regrets it now. When I tried to corner him on the station to demand answers, he almost tried to kill me, and now there's another one of his species on board." Shepard glanced around the room to insure the creepy ambassador hadn't snuck in. "Something about those guys rubs me the wrong way."

"A little too much like the Illusive Man?"

Shepard rose slowly from her chair and started towards the door. "More like a little too much like my one encounter with the Leviathans." She shuddered with the memory. "I am very glad we leaked their homeworld information to the Reapers during the last two months before we returned to Earth."

"You really think they're all dead?" Tali asked. "I mean, from what you said, they seemed plenty scary on their own."

"I read the reports. Something in that area took out five Sovereign-class Reapers, but there were twenty sent in." She tapped the elevator button impatiently. "If they're not dead, it's not for lack of trying."

* * *

Veetor landed the shuttle cautiously. Sensors showed that the factory here was still active, still functioning at turning out solar panels and simple prefabricated tools. In fact, there were over a dozen full cargo shipments ready to go to the southern continent for the Quarians to use. Interestingly, the environmental controls were also active.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly. "We don't know what's going on."

Shala stood up, checking her pistols at her hips and activating her shields. "Someone has to find out. Good piloting, Veetor." She squeezed his shoulder lightly before opening the door to the back. "Ready, Marines?"

Three soldiers saluted quickly. All of them bore Quarian-built assault rifles as their primary weapons, and holding them at the ready they burst out the back of the shuttle. Aside from startling a small covey of birds, nothing in the area stirred. Even the security cameras on the building did not turn in their direction.

They approached the building in pairs, Shala hanging towards the back with the sergeant. No signs of geth, nor signs of any other intelligent race. The front door to the facility opened normally as one of the privates slapped the control, and the two in the lead swept the small lobby. Being new construction, the geth had helpfully designed the building to eventually be taken over by Quarians, but the desk where a secretary would sit was vacant, the chair and terminal still uninstalled.

"I don't like this, ma'am," the sergeant said. "If the geth are here, they would have seen us approach, and probably said something nasty about having our weapons out. If they're not here, we don't know who took them out."

"Unless Zaal'Koris is correct, and the energy wave that broke the relay did the same to the geth," Shala said. "The geth were supposed to have a local server in the administrative space. The sign indicates it's on the third floor." Gesturing with her empty hand, she waited for the two privates to move, peering around the corner before starting up.

Quiet noises, the hum of machinery, and the occasional birdcall through an open window, were all that echoed in the halls. Aside from their own footsteps, of course. The server was missing, the room scrubbed clean, and recently from what one of the privates thought after cracking his helmet briefly.

"Alright. We'll try the main factory floor, then if we don't find anything we'll try heading further west towards their main server," Shala said. Thoroughly creeped out by the empty building, the marines didn't protest having to descend back down all those stairs. No one was risking being stuck in an elevator.

Back in the lobby, they paused for a moment next to the main doors before smacking the controls and bursting in. Dozens of organics worked, running the equipment manually and pushing around carts loaded with supplies and finished product. "Hold it," one of the privates shouted, pointing his assault rifle at one.

_What an oddly familiar species,_ Shala thought. Their head was tiny, almost simply an extension of the large, curved neck. One large eye sat in the middle, surrounded by five smaller eyes. Their mouth was actually at the base of the neck, near the top of the ribs. They were hairless, and their skin was a smooth, shiny grey, ranging from a pale near-white to a deep charcoal. Since almost all of them were nude, she could also see perfectly well they all appeared to have small mammary glands similar to Quarians, as well as both male and female genitals.

"Identify yourself," she demanded. For some reason, the rest of the factory workers were ignoring the little byplay. _Could they be some kind of genetically-designed servants?_ She wondered.

It stared at her, the eyelid around the large center eye contracting slightly like an iris. "Creator Shala'Raan. We are geth."

"You're … geth?" She stared around in confusion. "But geth are synthetic."

"We _were_ synthetic. The energy wave that damaged the relay also converted all geth into organic life forms."

A sudden chill ran down her spine. "_All_ geth?"

Its head bowed. "Yes." The thought of the cleaning compounds in the server room made her close her eyes, breathing deeply to keep her stomach contents where they were. "Only those geth downloaded into mobile platforms survived."

She glanced around the factory, clearly being run at maximum capacity. "Then why are you working on these? Why didn't you contact us and let us know what happened?"

The central eye narrowed further as the head bowed. "We were … afraid. This sudden change was not done with our knowledge or yours, and we wanted to ensure our own survival before we could discuss a new balance between our peoples."

Shala could see that. Daro'Xen would probably flip out and advocate a new round of genocide, especially with the synthetic advantages lost to the geth. Zaal'Koris would be sympathetic, but something like this would probably have him spouting off how the geth were now truly their children, or something like that. "How many geth have survived?"

"On Rannoch, there are only two hundred thirty seven million nine hundred two thousand, sixty two geth remaining." She stared at it in shock, watching as a nictitating membrane flicked across the surface of the central eye. "That is less than twenty percent survival rate of pre-energy-wave geth."

_Oh, if only I could go back in time again and shoot Han'Gerral myself,_ she thought grimly. "I am sorry for your loss. Do the geth still desire peace?"

"Yes."

"Marines, holster your weapons." Her own pistol had already been returned to her hip, but despite an uneasy glance around from the sergeant, they folded their rifles and clipped them to their backs. "This is an unusual situation. We had no idea this would happen, nor do we know what happened to any Quarians outside our own system."

"We do not know. All geth near Earth, including those installed in mobile units, are dead. The energy wave, combined with our failsafe against potential Reaper indoctrination, rendered all of them dead. Indications from the energy wave mean that the Rayya and Neema should have survived." The geth hesitated. "That assumes that hostilities ceased following the energy wave."

Shala nodded. "We'll pray to the Ancestors for them. We will return to the south, but as Admiral of the Migrant Fleet, I must officially demand that some geth return to the south. For communication between our people, if nothing else."

It hesitated for a moment, the central eyelid contracting almost completely closed before opening again. "We will have our own survival assured with ninety percent certainty in two point one months. At that time, we will begin reactivating facilities on the southern continent."

"I suppose that will have to do." She turned to leave, hesitating only a moment before turning back. "I realize that the geth, unlike Quarians, don't need environment suits. But you should at least put on some clothing, for decency."

It glanced down at its own nudity, smooth hairless skin puckering around the penile sheath opening and the vaginal lips. "Geth do not possess a nudity taboo. But we will ensure any geth in proximity to Quarians wear clothing meeting the acceptable minimum standard of Citadel entertainment films."

Shala's mouth opened, but her brain couldn't come up with any response to that. Hoping that it was referring to at least something like Blasto, and not Fornax Video, she led the way back out of the building and over to the shuttle.

Climbing in, she sat heavily in the copilot seat, staring blankly out the front. After the third time Veetor said her name, she blinked and turned to him. "What did you find?"

"They're all completely naked and happy about it," Shala said. After several seconds of very confused silence, Veetor started the shuttle and started the long flight back home.


End file.
